Have You Seen Watson?
by I'm Saved
Summary: Holmes wakes up one morning, and Watson is not there. Where could be? Follow our cunning detective as he tracks down his friend. Short, yes. Good, you decide. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

_Well, here's another Sherlock Holmes story. I'm kinda stuck on An Accidental Cry right now. I know what I want to happen, BUT IT WON'T COME OUT RIGHT!!! GRRR!!!! Anyway, this one's probably not going to be very long, and I hope you enjoy it._  
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**Chapter One**

The sun was shining brightly in the outside morning. Sherlock Holmes, however, was not aware of this fact as he had the curtains drawn, and the lamps off, sleeping deeply. He had recently finished his latest case, and was, for once, getting a good night's sleep. Or trying to, at least. Miss Hudson, the poor woman, had come in shortly after eight and pulled the curtains back, rudely awakening the sleeping detective. He yelled at her, she yelled at him, and both left the room in a huff. Miss Hudson went into the kitchen; Holmes to the sitting room. He settled into his favorite chair and began to read the day's paper that Miss Hudson had brought in earlier.

It wasn't until around noon that Holmes really took notice of one singular fact. He had not seen his favorite doctor that morning. He checked the time.  
'Hmmm. I wonder where Watson could be.' He thought. In his head, he ran through his morning, and could not remember seeing or hearing Watson that day. He got up, and walked to Watson's room. The door was open.  
"Watson?" he said as he stuck his head through the door. 'Not there' he thought, puzzling as to where his friend could be.  
"Miss Hudson?" he called as he went back into the sitting room.  
"Yes," she answered rather tersely. Holmes smiled slightly. She was obviously not over this morning's little bought with him.  
"Have you seen Watson this morning by any chance?"  
"No sir." Her head appeared around the door that lead to the hallway. "He came home early last night, and told me he was going to bed. No explanation as to why, so I just assumed that he had had a hard day at the hospital. I've no idea where he is if he isn't in the house." Her head disappeared back into the hall, and Holmes heard her walk away. He wondered again.  
Where was Watson?

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_Well, there's chapter one. Yeah, I know it's short, and I'm sorry about that. Hoping to have the next chapter up soon, since I'm almost done writing it! As always, please R&R!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Walking down the street, Holmes ran through the mental list he had come up with earlier. Places to check:  
Hospital  
Lodge  
Park  
And if all else failed every bookstore and goods store that Watson had ever been to. The detective was walking a bit faster than usual; his need to know where Watson had disappeared to urged him on. Arriving at the hospital, he went in and questioned the first staff member he saw.  
"Good morning sir." Greeted Holmes.  
"Good morning to you," replied the other man.  
"My name is Sherlock Holmes. I'm here looking for my friend, John Watson. Do you perhaps know him?"  
"Dr. Watson? Of course I know him. One of the best doctors I've ever worked with. You say you're looking for him?"  
"Yes, I was hoping to find him here."  
"You're too late for that Mr. Holmes. He left earlier this morning."  
"Then he was here?"  
"Yes. He came in early to check on a patient that came in last night. Poor fellow. Was in a carriage accident. Dr. Watson and I worked on him almost our whole shift. I left before John did, though. When I came in today, I found out that our patient had taken a turn for the worse after we left last night. He was still hanging on when Dr. Watson came in this morning, apparently. But there just wasn't anything that could be done for him. He passed away a couple of hours ago."  
'So that's where Watson was this morning,' thought Holmes.  
"Two hours ago? Is Dr. Watson still here, then?" the detective asked.  
"Oh no. He wasn't on shift when he came in this morning. The nurses told me that after the patient died, he just left. No idea where he went."  
"Do you know of anyone who might know where he went?"  
"No sir. The nurses said he left without saying a word to anyone."  
"I see. Thank you, Doctor." He tipped his hat to the man, and walked out of the hospital.  
'Hmm. Lost a patient? Poor Watson. He holds human life so sacred. He must be brooding somewhere. Hmm. I'm Watson. Where would I go to brood?' The detective's thoughts concluded that the most likely place to find the doctor was at his favorite bench in the park. Picking up his pace, the detective hurried on.  
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	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**  
When he arrived at the park, he found the object of his search. There sat Watson, on his favorite bench, gazing out across the small pond that the park was built around. The detective walked slowly up to his friend. When he reached him, he stood behind the bench for a time. Then Watson spoke.  
"Hello Holmes." There was no energy in his voice; its usual cheerfulness was gone. He continued to gaze out across the shining blue water, and never turned to face Holmes.  
"Good afternoon, Watson." Holmes greeted. "I thought I might find you here."  
"Hmm." Was the reply. Holmes walked around the bench and sat down next to too, gazed across the pond. They sat in silence. About two hours they sat, just sitting and thinking. Finally, Watson spoke.  
"You know Holmes, I'm really getting quite tired of this."  
"What are you talking about, Watson?"  
"I am talking about only being able to do a certain amount of things. We are all born, we all grow up, and most of us end up with some sort of job. Some people hate their jobs and would end it as soon as they had the chance. Others, such as myself, love what they do for a living. But no matter how much you despise what you do, or love it, you can only do so much for it. I'm tired of that, Holmes. I'm tired of limits. I'm a doctor. I was trained to cure people, to make them better, to help them lead happier lives. I wasn't trained to just sit there, watching as a good man dies. I should have done something. I should have _been able_ to do something. Why does it have to be that way, Holmes? Why do there have to be limits on what one can do to save another?" For the first time, he turned to look at his friend. "Why?" he repeated.  
Holmes was silent for a moment.  
"Watson," he began, "men are just that, men. We are not all-knowing; we can't do anything our hearts desire. If that were the case, I am afraid you would have to help me with a lot more cases than you already are. Men are not always good, Watson. But we are all equal. We are only given so much power, and that power is more than what any other living thing on this earth possesses. We are given what we are given, my friend. Some men have, in the past, used their skills to their full extent, while others have barely even begun to use theirs. You, my dear Watson, have learned to use your skills as a doctor to their full potential. You were not able to do more because you are a man. Men should not have any more power over death than what they were born with, what they have come to learn. Sometimes our best isn't good enough. And that is when we have to accept that we cannot do anything more than what we were born to do. You couldn't save that man, Watson. But you have saved others. Do not let human incapability to hinder your passion for medicine, Doctor. There are many other lives you can save." They fell back into silence. After a little while, Watson spoke once more.  
"Thank you, Holmes."  
"Not at all, my dear Watson," he replied. "It was my pleasure. After all, what else are friends for?" he asked with a smile. Watson returned the smile.  
"We'd best be getting back to Baker Street, old chap. Miss Hudson will be wondering about you." Continued Holmes.  
They got up, and, walking together as they had so many times before, began towards their home.

THE END

Well, that's it for that one! Hope you like it, even though I know it wasn't very good. I at least hope the plot was good. Tell me what you think and review! (please) :)


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